


Remains of the Day

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bakura Ryou has PTSD, Big Bad is Not Zorc, Enemies to Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Yu-Gi-Oh! GX Compliant, Not Yu-Gi-Oh! The Dark Side of Dimensions Compliant, POV Multiple, Post-Canon, Saving the World, Thief King Bakura | Yami Bakura Has His Own Body, Yami Marik Has His Own Body, Yami Yuugi | Atem Has His Own Body, not graphic though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24645406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: Ryou was almost entirely sure that Yugi had only called him into this situation now in order to avoid him finding out about it all by accident later on.Hewasentirely sure that he’d have preferred to never find out at all, andalmostsure that Yugi felt the same way.Marik hadn’t been sure what to think when he woke up in the Game Shop with another him, someone who wasdefinitelynot Ryou, and someone who wasdefinitelynot Yugi.Did Yugi have the faintest clue what was actually happening? No. No, not really.But, like everything else in his life, he guessed he'd just have to roll with the punches this adventure was sure to dish out.
Relationships: Atem/Mutou Yuugi, Bakura Ryou & Mutou Yuugi, Bakura Ryou & Yami Marik, Bakura Ryou/Yami Marik, Yami Bakura/Marik Ishtar
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	1. lord protector

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this choppy as all hell? yep.  
> do i care? nope
> 
> please enjoy
> 
> i am very tired

Ryou was almost entirely sure that Yugi had only called him into this situation now in order to avoid him finding out about it all by accident later on.

He _was_ entirely sure that he’d have preferred to never find out at all, and _almost_ sure that Yugi felt the same way.

… Still.

He was glad that he hadn’t found out on accident, and that he’d been brought into this with advanced warning that he _might_ want to be ready to fight off a panic attack. That he wasn’t going to like what Yugi had called him into.

He wasn’t at all glad it was happening, but was glad that Yugi had at least had the presence of mind through his own obvious panic to warn him that he needed to be ready.

And there were a lot of things that he was expecting when he’d arrived at the Game Shop. Perhaps Yugi had discovered he still had access to Shadow Magic, or Marik had come back to Domino with some other type of bad news. Hell, he’d even expected _Pegasus himself_ being at the Game Shop before he’d even _considered…_

Well.

_Reality._

Because the reality was, well…

When he walked into the apartment above the shop, the first thing he caught sight of was the _fucking Spirit of the Ring._

It’d been nearly a decade since he’d last caught sight of the fucker, but he was there clear as day _now._ And beside him stood Marik, Ryou quickly realized, and off in the corner, nursing a cup of tea, was the Pharaoh. Atem, wasn’t it? That seemed correct.

His eyes flicked back to the Spirit.

He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, or what he was _supposed_ to be feeling for that matter. He really just felt kind of blank about it. Like… The Spirit was here, big deal. Nothing to panic about. It was just a parasite without a host, at this point.

Though if he’d been any younger, even just a _year_ younger, it would have dropped him straight on into a panic attack to even see him, let alone see him _knowing_ he was _real._

“Ah.” He said, and he knew it had only been seconds since he opened the door, no matter how long the train of thought seemed to drag on, “I suppose the warning makes sense, then.”

He closed the door behind him and stepped further into the apartment after toeing off his shoes. Gave the Spirit a good looking at. A very _obvious,_ careful looking at, and watched the… Thing? _Man?_ Twitch under his critical eye. He almost smiled, because _good._ Because the Spirit _should_ be uncomfortable.

But he refrained.

No good would come of that right now.

No good at all.

In the end, though, he huffed, _supremely_ unimpressed by the mortal mockery of that _thing_ that was standing in front of him, and turned to Yugi. The still slightly shorter male looked half-concerned. Like he genuinely thought that Ryou was in some sort of distress.

Well, he wasn’t.

That little human vessel wasn’t much to look at―a mockery of his own appearance, of course, but lacking all the pieces that had made the Spirit so intimidating when he was younger. There was no hauntingly dark aura. No mocking smirk. No unspoken insistence that he was better and bigger and scarier than you could ever be. Just a _man._

And that wasn’t ever what Ryou had been afraid of.

“Is this all you were warning me about?” He asked, perhaps a bit flatly, “Because if so, I do appreciate the gesture and concern for my continued well-being, but I’m hardly shaking in my boots at the knowledge he’s around.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Atem make a clear effort to hide his amusement at that behind his teacup, and the Spirit and Marik both looking somewhat taken aback (and perhaps even a little affronted).

Yugi, however, just gave a weak smile. “He’s not all, but I figured he’d be the most likely to be an issue to you.”

“Perhaps a year ago,” Ryou granted.

And Yugi just nodded, because to him that must make total sense.

“... So what else.”

“Oh, uh…” Yugi’s eyes flicked to a closed door―the spare bedroom, Ryou knew from the few times he’d been up here. “... Marik’s evil side may have come back too?”

“And you locked him in your spare bedroom?” Ryou lifted an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I didn’t _lock_ him in there,” Yugi protested, “I just― Kind of closed it. He hasn’t come out.”

Ryou rolled his eyes, because of _course_ that was the reaction to Marik’s evil half while the _Spirit_ stood here unharmed and totally unrestrained. That was just how it worked, wasn’t it? Marik got to let Yugi lock his away and Ryou had to deal with his out in the open.

… He hated making the connection that that was how it _always_ was.

Still. He couldn’t be too angry, he supposed, since he had no real reason to be so indignant about the other Marik being locked away while the Spirit, who wasn’t exactly _equipped_ to harm anyone, wasn’t.

“And obviously,” Yugi hurried on, “You saw that Atem’s here, too.”

“Indeed he is.” Ryou acknowledged, but decided to backtrack, “Has anyone tried to _speak_ to him? Is he even aware he can _leave_ that room?”

“I’m not sure he knows he can leave?” Marik piped up, behind him, so he turned to face him, “But there was at least, you know, an _attempt_ at talking before he went in there.”

Ryou hummed.

And walked straight to the door, ignoring the startled noises that came from even the _Spirit._

He gave one cursory knock, then popped the door open and slipped inside, closing the door behind him and plunging the room back into darkness.

“Rather bright out there, isn’t it?” He asked, sitting down right there in front of the door while his eyes adjusted.

In the gloom, he saw something move.

Now, he wasn’t stupid. He knew being in here with Marik’s dark side probably wasn’t his greatest plan of action. The man was known to be violent in the past and Ryou wasn’t necessarily equipped to fight him off if he decided to get hostile.

… But Ryou was willing to go out on a limb here and guess he didn’t have any reason to _be_ hostile. And that he’d probably come in _here_ because it was darker than the main room and he didn’t feel needed in the main room.

He understood, on some perfunctory level, that the other Marik was a defense mechanism. And he would wager a lot on the fact that he didn’t have anything to defend at the moment. Marik didn’t need him anymore. So he’d feel even more out of place, and he was unlikely to be hostile unless he was lashing out unnecessarily… But Ryou didn’t think he would be. Marik was smart, and the other Marik had been _deranged,_ but smart. He remembered that.

“... Mm.” Came the eventual, soft affirmative from across the room.

If Ryou squinted, he could make out the other Marik’s shape, sitting cross-legged by the spare bed.

He stayed where he was, though.

“Not much of a talker, I suppose?”

“Mm-mm.”

Ryou hummed in return, nodding a bit.

“... Never had much need for words.” The other Marik finally said, “Least of all when I’m not needed.”

Ah. So he’d been right―Marik didn’t _need_ his darker half anymore. He felt displaced and useless, clearly. And probably uncomfortable.

“Would you mind if I moved closer to you?” Ryou asked, carefully.

There was a silence, but finally the other Marik said, “... If you want.”

It was the most comfortable Ryou had ever felt with someone within moments of meeting them, and he thought that was probably pretty sad. He felt comfortable with the displaced defense mechanism. _More_ comfortable than he felt with Yugi, even after ten years.

Regardless he got up, shifted his way closer to the bed and to the other Marik, and sat back down about four feet away from him.

He could sort of see the other Marik, now, with his wild hair. And he could tell from the way that the other Marik seemed to stare into him that he could see _him_ just fine. He wasn’t even squinting, Ryou didn’t think.

He must have been in here for a _while._

“... Why?” Asked the other Marik, after a long silence between them.

“Didn’t seem fair, I suppose.” Ryou said, honestly, “They’re all out there making nice while they leave you in here alone.”

His eyes were well-enough adjusted by then that he could see the other Marik’s brows furrow.

“... Spirit used to call you too nice for your own good.” The other Marik said, softly, after another long moment, “Guess I understand that now.”

“I don’t think I’m too nice for my own good,” Ryou shrugged, and tried not to sound argumentative, “You’ve not given me a reason yet to not be kind to you, regardless.”

“I know Marik’s bitched about me.” He huffed, “You have reasons.”

“Old reasons.” He pointed out, in turn, “And you don’t seem to be at all the bloodthirsty thing he likes to describe.”

There was another silence, and Ryou simply watched the other Marik while he stared at him with brows still furrowed and lips pulling downward. There was nothing better to do while he waited, and for once he didn’t feel uncomfortable being studied. He supposed that it just naturally didn’t mind being stared at when it was because someone was trying to figure out his motives. And that was clearly what the other Marik was doing. He didn’t seem to have any idea why Ryou was being kind to him, and Ryou was willing to let him puzzle through it until he felt like asking or he figured out that Ryou was genuinely just trying to give him a chance.

“... I tried to kill your friends?” The other Marik finally suggested, face and voice both equally unsure.

“And so did the Spirit. Several times over.” Ryou shrugged, “Again, though, _old_ reason.”

The other Marik didn’t seem to know what to make of that. He seemed helpless.

“The way I see it,” Ryou began his explanation slowly, “While you are very much the person who did all of those things, you couldn’t have been expected to know better than to do those things. You were one half of a whole person, yes?” At the other Marik’s slow nod he continued, “And you were, forgive me if I’m wrong, a defense mechanism? So you were doing what you thought you needed to, yes?” Another slow nod, “And now you’re one whole person on your own, and no longer _Marik’s_ defense mechanism. You seem to grasp the concept of having done bad things where as half of him you wouldn’t have… Effectively, you’re a different person, because you’re a _whole_ person for the very first time. So I’m giving _you_ a chance just like I gave Marik one.”

The nod the other Marik gave this time was even slower, but his face turned from one of total lack of understanding to one of dawning realization so Ryou counted it as a victory.

“That aside, I’d hate for anyone to just be left in here alone without anyone checking up on them. That’s just rude and unfair.”

At that, the other Marik’s lips sort of twitched up.

Ryou smiled in return.

There was another long silence, and Ryou didn’t mind, but he saw the other Marik’s eyes continually gravitate toward his scarred left hand where it sat in his lap. Rather than asking why, or questioning the obvious antsiness that Marik had been feeling the whole time, he simply scooted closer and offered the other man his left hand.

The other Marik almost flinched at the sudden movements, but reached out and took Ryou’s hand anyway. Traced his fingers over the scar and the skin around it. Held his wrist gently and rubbed the skin with a level of care no one had ever spared Ryou even as he flipped his hand over to examine the matching scar on his palm. He seemed almost in awe, but whatever question he had never left his mouth.

His fingers twitched up to the inside of Ryou’s wrist past the hand holding it, then seemed to flinch back. Ryou glanced to his face and moved with clear intent to roll his sleeve up over his shoulder, then offered the rest of his arm to the man by leaning it closer.

The other Marik’s fingers skated up the inside of his forearm, then up his bicep to trace over the scar he still had from the Millennium Rod’s knife.

And it was silent between them while the other Marik’s attentions shifted between the two scars, and the clear unease he’d been feeling faded. He stopped looking so antsy. Seemed totally taken by the scars and Ryou didn’t mind at all. He’d long since stopped caring when people stared at them.

“I know where this came from.” The other Marik finally said, tapping the scar on his bicep before skating his fingers back down his arm, “But this.”

“The Spirit,” Ryou shrugged, “Or, well. _Myself._ But because of the Spirit.”

The other Marik’s eyes flicked to his.

Ryou continued, “We were playing a Shadow Game with Yugi. I didn’t want Yugi to get hurt, so I… May have impaled that hand on part of the diorama I’d made for the game. To keep the Spirit from using it.”

The other Marik blinked.

Then smiled.

Muffled a laugh and went back to staring at it.

“... Too nice for your own good.” He said, softly, but it was almost fond and definitely amused.

Ryou didn’t mind.

But eventually there came a knock on the door, and Ryou reluctantly rejoined the others outside of the room after making sure the other Marik knew that if he wanted, he could come as well, and Ryou would be with him. It was odd that the other Marik seemed to actually find that comforting, but… Well. Ryou guessed he was probably the only person who had ever gone out of his way to be nice to the guy.

After rejoining the others, he did get a lot of questions about what had happened and he calmly deflected all of them in order to weasel and answer about why and how this had happened out of Yugi, who eventually caved and did his best to explain.

He didn’t know any specifics, but he’d dreamed of Horakhty and she’d told him that something big was about to happen. And then, this morning, he’d found those three down in the shop. The other Marik had been unconscious and hadn’t woken up until after Marik and Atem had dragged him up here.

He’d been in the spare room pretty much since waking up.

Meanwhile, none of the others seemed to have any grasp on what had happened at all. Marik claimed he had woken up in the shop, just like the Spirit and Atem, and it had been a nasty shock for him. Considering how mildly shaken he still seemed, Ryou would believe it.

That didn’t mean he liked it, though, because he most certainly did not.

He didn’t like any of this one single bit.

But he’d live.

At least _this_ time he wasn’t directly in the middle of it or on the wrong side.

It was the little things, you know?

But eventually, when he was sitting down and trying to process it all while the Spirit sat nearby and _also_ seemed to process and the others went to get food for everyone, the door to the spare bedroom creaked open. It was getting a tad darker, by then, and Ryou glanced over to watch the other Marik peek his head out and squint in the still-brighter living room. From the corner of his eye he could see the Spirit watching as well.

Neither of them said a word, and eventually the other Marik exited the spare room and walked almost purposefully to Ryou’s side and… Sat down next to his feet, on the floor.

He didn’t say anything.

He just planted himself there, legs crossed, and acted like it wasn’t anything.

Still, Ryou gently tucked his leg against the other Marik’s side and watched the man relax just a bit as soon as the contact registered.

Ryou could live with being something of a walking comfort object. It was better than being ignored or useless.

Thankfully, the Spirit didn’t seem to have any scathing or clever remarks left over in his repertoire and didn’t say a word.

When the others finally returned with food, the other Marik didn’t move aside from almost seeming to inch closer to Ryou’s leg, and to their credit none of them batted an eyelash at him being there, though he was sure that Marik had done a double-take upon realizing the exact placement of his darker half.

Yugi was the one to distribute food to everyone else, and the other Marik didn’t look remotely suspicious or unwilling when Yugi offered him his. He just accepted it with a silent nod and waited until Yugi had handed Ryou his food before he really even looked at his. Ryou spent most of the time watching him, he’d admit.

But once everyone else had their food and Yugi had sat down with Atem, Ryou set about starting to eat. The other Marik followed his lead without question.

They quietly discussed what to do about their situation while they ate, with the other Marik offering nothing in the way of suggestions or even commentary. He just watched on silently.

The question eventually came up, though―where would the Spirit and the other Marik be staying in the time being? Yugi only had one spare bedroom even with his grandpa off on another ill-advised expedition and there were _three_ whole displaced people. Obviously the best option for Atem was to stay here with Yugi. And Marik _did_ have an apartment, so one of them could probably stay with him… But the issue was figuring out _who._

“You seem comfortable enough with the Spirit,” Ryou shrugged, eventually, “Why not take him with you?”

It got him a lot of odd looks, even from the other Marik.

When no one actually asked, he rolled his eyes and said, “I have a spare bedroom as well, after all. As we’ve mentioned. And somehow I doubt you’d be comfortable sharing a home with _him,”_ He motioned to the other Marik, “At this stage, so the Spirit would be the reasonable one for you to take, yes?”

Slowly, Marik nodded.

The other Marik just looked at him like he was, once again, not sure what to make of him… But also like hwas grateful. If just _ever_ so slightly. Probably not enough for anyone else to notice.

So when they all eventually started to get up and leave, the other Marik followed him on out into the street and trailed just a little behind him. He didn’t stray, however, and stayed close enough to reach out and grab Ryou if he needed to for any reason. Which he did, once, when they passed a particularly dark alley rather close to Ryou’s apartment building.

He just grabbed his wrist and kept walking, but his eyes stayed glued to the darkness until they’d passed another alley.

He didn’t let go.

Ryou didn’t doubt that there’d been a reason he’d grabbed him. That he’d seen something or even just _thought_ he’d seen something in that alley.

All he wondered was why, exactly, the other Marik seemed to be so quick to protect him.

Was it just because he’d been kind to him?

He guessed he’d never know unless he asked, and he didn’t much feel like asking.

“Thank you,” The other Marik finally said, once they were inside of Ryou’s apartment and Ryou had cleaned off his spare bed for him.

And Ryou just smiled. Laid a gentle hand on his shoulder for a moment, then pulled back and headed for the door. “I’m just down the hall if you need anything. The bathroom is directly across from you.”

The other Marik nodded, and Ryou headed off to bed.

Would he be able to sleep tonight? It was unlikely. Away from the actual situation, he would most likely find himself in a panic he really didn’t feel a need for. That would keep him up into the wee hours of the morning and by then it’d be better to simply stay awake until he could tuck himself into bed tomorrow night.

Still. He may as well at least _pretend_ to try and sleep.

And once he laid down, once he felt comfortable, it crashed into him. The Spirit was back. Marik’s darker half was in his spare bedroom. Something _big_ was about to happen.

He suppressed the sob that wanted to leave him, turned his face into his pillow, and just tried to _breathe._

His aching, teary eyes blinked at the clock on his bedside table later, long after he’d finished up, and saw it was almost three in the morning.

It was almost three in the morning, and the other Marik was standing in his bedroom doorway.

“... Somethin’ wrong?” He asked, softly.

The other Marik shifted. “... You were crying.” He finally said, “Earlier.”

Ryou wanted to curse, but instead he just sighed and nodded.

The other Marik took an uneasy step into the room, and Ryou didn’t object. Didn’t object him coming further into the room, or him sitting down on the edge of the bed and laying a hand on his leg. He just watched him with exhausted, aching eyes. And the other Marik watched him in return, eyes oddly… Soft. Concerned.

… Worried for him already, huh?

And Ryou had really thought he was starting to get himself together.

“... Here if you need me.” The other Marik finally said, eyes flicking away from his face.

It wasn’t what Ryou had expected to hear, and it punched the air right out of him.

… But he smiled.

“Thank you.” He said.

The other Marik looked at him again and his lips quirked up just a little bit.

They stayed like that for a while, without moving.

Finally, though, the other Marik seemed to get tired.

It wasn’t immediately obvious, but he began to sway a bit. His eyes seemed to droop.

The clock said it was 4:30 and going to bed wasn’t a great idea, but… Well. There was no use keeping the other Marik up any longer. He probably couldn’t go several days without sleep like Ryou could. Ryou could wake him up later and try to get him on a better sleep schedule in the coming days.

He scooted backwards a bit, opening up a spot on the bed and watching the other Marik seem to blink back into full awareness. He looked a little alarmed.

Ryou just smiled and patted the space next to him.

The other Marik hesitated, then slowly slipped under the covers and laid down facing him. He seemed to hesitate further when he realized how little space there was between them. Ryou chose to make the first move on that front, laying one arm over Marik’s side while he tucked the other against his own waist. And the other Marik blinked at him, then slowly laid his arm over his side as well.

And then, after a moment, his eyes slid shut.

After a few more, he was dead asleep and Ryou…

Ryou passed out.

* * *

He woke up with his face buried in the other Marik’s chest, fingers tangled in the back of his shirt. The other Marik was running his fingers slowly through his hair and it was surprisingly bright out considering how long Ryou _usually_ passed out after falling asleep at four in the morning.

He hummed, rather content with what was going on, and the other Marik froze for a second before he resumed running his fingers through his hair.

“... Morning.” He uttered.

“Morning,” Ryou replied.

Neither moved.

But eventually their grumbling stomachs got them to detangle from each other and head to the kitchen. Ryou made sure to ask if the other Marik was vegetarian, like Marik. The other Marik scrunched up his nose at the question, then shook his head.

So Ryou made eggs and toast, and the other Marik ate like a man starved.

Ryou pointedly did not comment on it.

After breakfast, though, he chose to address another issue.

“We need a better name for you,” He said, simply, and watched the other Marik blink at him. “Calling you Marik or ‘the other Marik’ doesn’t feel right.”

The other Marik considered that.

And in the end Ryou found himself texting Marik to ask if he had any objection to the other Marik going by his last name.

When he replied that, no, he didn’t, it was settled.

The other Marik was Ishtar.

He seemed to look a little more comfortable once that was established, and Ryou was glad. He was… Inexplicably attached to Ishtar.

Thankfully, however, Ishtar seemed to be attached to him as well.

After a few moments of just sort of smiling at each other, Ryou received a text from Marik asking if _he_ had any objection to the Spirit using _his_ last name.

Ryou responded by saying that the Spirit had already stolen that name from him ten years ago anyway, so he was free to use it as he wished.

Marik asked if that was passive aggression, and Ryou chose to respond with a blank faced emoji rather than words.

It seemed to get his point across, though.

* * *

“Qalil sahira,” Ishtar said, something like a week later, “What is this?”

“It’s a spellbook.” Ryou said, offhandedly, before the other part processed, “... What did you call me?”

He recognized the words, but he couldn’t… He didn’t speak enough Arabic to understand them.

“... It means little witch.” Ishtar explained, with slightly reddened cheeks. “Do you not want―”

“No, no, that’s alright,” Ryou said, too quickly, even as he felt himself feel a _bit_ warm in the cheeks and in the chest as well at the realization that it was clearly used with intent to be a nickname. “I― You can call me that, if you want. I just didn’t know what you meant.”

Ishtar smiled a little, and Ryou smiled back, weakly.

* * *

“Is it meant to mean something that he calls me ‘qalil sahira’?” Ryou asked Marik, some time later, while Ishtar and Bakura puzzled over something with Atem, “Or is that just him being quirky?”

Marik’s brows furrowed for a moment, but ultimately he shrugged, “I’m really not sure. I know it’d be a term of endearment if I was using it, or at least a fond nickname. I can’t tell you for sure if it means the same thing to him.”

Ryou tried not to blush.

… It certainly _felt_ like it was used as a term of endearment or fond nickname.

* * *

Getting teleported in the middle of the night into a strange, dark dimension entirely too reminiscent of the Shadow Realm was probably what currently topped Ryou’s list of things he never wanted to experience again. Ever.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been asleep, and even _more_ thankfully he was still holding onto Ishtar when they both got their senses back.

“What the _fuck.”_ He hissed.

“I don’t know,” Ishtar replied, even as he pulled himself away to look around.

They both scrambled to their feet to get a better look and found, in the distance, what looked like ruins. They shared a glance, both still very confused and probably equally afraid, and shrugged helplessly to each other before heading off in the direction of the ruins. They were the only thing either of them could see in terms of structures. Nothing else.

So, they were their best bet.


	2. thief and keeper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kind words on chapter one!! I'd love to be able to respond to each comment personally but it takes more energy than I have lately so I just want to come right out and say every kudo and comment completely makes my day and I read every comment! Sometimes several times over.
> 
> this chapter's a lot shorter than the first one but i was kind of just running low on ideas for it tbh. maybe i should have had a more detailed outline written down ;w;

Marik hadn’t been sure what to think when he woke up in the Game Shop with another him, someone who was  _ definitely _ not Ryou, and someone who was  _ definitely _ not Yugi.

He still wasn’t sure what to think by the time he was headed to his apartment with the Spirit that night.

They didn’t talk―not really. They kind of just tossed looks at each other here and there and chewed on the insides of their cheeks.

The Spirit was more awkward than he remembered him being, but maybe that was because the last time he’d seen him he had still been the unholy amalgamation of some poor ancient bastard and Zorc instead of… Well… Basically just the poor ancient bastard with some of Zorc’s personality left over.

Marik guessed it made sense, though, if what was left of the Spirit was primarily the human pieces. He knew in a somewhat roundabout way that the Thief King had been torn apart when Zorc had possessed him, but he also knew from his time sharing with the Spirit and Ryou, however short that was, that pieces of him had clung to the Ring and to Zorc. That was how the Spirit came to be, after all. And if Zorc had been defeated and cleansed out of the Ring as a result, it made sense if the Spirit had only clung to what he could keep hold of.

… Marik also guessed he probably wouldn’t be thinking about it so hard if they would just  _ talk _ to each other on the way to his apartment, but he couldn’t think of anything meaningful to say and it didn’t seem like the Spirit could either. He’d just been very quiet in general since they’d woken up.

Still, when they got to Marik’s apartment and Marik had closed the door behind them, the Spirit turned to him, gaze considering.

… They didn’t really talk much for the rest of the night, either, but it was certainly less awkward to not be speaking because he was too busy gasping for breath and making embarrassing noises beneath the Spirit on the couch.

The next morning was set to be awkward again, however, and Marik decided to try and remedy that as soon as he could.

“... I don’t suppose you’ve picked out a name?” He asked the Spirit, while he personally curled up on one end of the couch and tucked further into the blanket around his shoulders.

“A name?” The Spirit asked, brow lifted.

“At present I’m not sure what I should be calling you.” Marik shrugged.

The Spirit seemed to consider that, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Finally, he frowned. “Landlord’s friends had always called both of us the same thing.” He said, “So I’ll admit I hadn’t given it much thought.”

About that moment, Marik’s phone had gone off, and he wished he was surprised that Ryou and his darker half were having a similar conversation at that moment. But he wasn’t. When you put two mirrors of each other together, they’ll reflect back even what you don’t want either of them to.

Marik had given his permission for his darker half to be called Ishtar without much thought. He’d never had a particular attachment to the name, personally, and if Ishtar wanted to be that much closer to their suffering? He was welcome to it. Marik wouldn’t dream of stopping him.

Still, it gave him a reasonable idea.

“... They called you Bakura, didn’t they? They didn’t know Ryou on a first-name basis.” He probed, somewhat.

“Yes,” The Spirit’s brows furrowed somewhat, but then he seemed to understand without Marik explaining, “I suppose it would be better than being called Spirit or Thief, and if nothing else I’m used to it… Better ask Landlord how  _ he _ feels about it. I’ve no desire to piss off your little defense mechanism by upsetting him.”

… Marik would admit he hadn’t considered that aspect of it―that Ishtar might have latched onto Ryou instead. That he might be protecting  _ Ryou _ now. But it would make sense, wouldn’t it? Take a defense mechanism out of its host, make it a real person, and prove its host no longer needs it… It’ll latch onto a new person. Even as a real, fully developed (or develop _ ing, _ rather) person Ishtar’s first and most basic instinct was to  _ protect. _ If he somehow thought that Ryou needed to be protected…

Well.

Ryou may not entirely appreciate the implication he needed to be protected, but Marik highly doubted that he’d argue having someone around who would kill for him without question.

“I’ll ask him,” Marik said, instead of any of that. And, after receiving an answer said, “He says it’s fine, but he was  _ definitely _ being passive aggressive about it.”

“Oh?” Bakura’s brows lifted again.

“He said you already stole that name from him years ago anyway, so you’re free to use it as you wish.” Marik said, almost feeling sheepish, “And his response to me  _ asking _ if that was passive aggression was a blank-faced emoji. So.”

Bakura suppressed a smile, and Marik had to fight a smile of his own in response.

“Well.” Bakura said, “At least he’s not letting everyone believe him to be a pushover now.”

“Was he not one, when he had the Ring?” He couldn’t help being curious.

“Hardly.” Bakura snorted, “My being able to overpower him was solely on a  _ power _ basis because I was Zorc. He’s a clever, conniving little shit and he’d have killed both of us a hundred times over just to stop me if I’d given him even the slightest chance.”

Marik had, actually, never thought of it that way. He knew Ryou better than he had ten years ago, of course, but it wasn’t as if they were really  _ friends. _ He’d always sort of assumed that he was smart, but that a lot of it had come from sharing with the Spirit since he was a certifiable mastermind. He hadn’t been able to access the part of the mind that belonged to Ryou when they’d shared―it had been as if there was a great, invisible wall preventing him from even getting too  _ close. _

He’d been able to see Ryou, sitting there and staring off into nothingness, and the shadows that seemed to be holding him there.

He hadn’t learned anything about Ryou that was pertinent.

He’d only learned what slipped past that invisible wall, and all of that was relatively unimportant or such outdated information even  _ then _ that Marik hadn’t had any use for it.

“... I had always sort of assumed you rubbed off on him and that was what turned him into such a cunning little shit.” He admitted.

“Well, I won’t deny he was more underhanded by the time we were gone and he  _ definitely _ learned that from me… But he  _ does  _ deserve credit for outsmarting me when he did.”

And, generally?

Talking with Bakura came much easier after that.

* * *

“... So he’s not giving you any trouble?” Marik ventured, maybe too cautiously, while he, Ryou, and Yugi spoke and the other three seemed to try to discuss something as well.

They’d decided that was the best course of action, in terms of figuring things out. Let the ones who had been here the whole time discuss things to see how and when it had flipped and if there was any other warning, and let the other three do the same. Alone.

As Marik, Ryou, and Yugi had pretty much figured out that the only warning any of them had gotten was Yugi’s freaky dream, they weren’t terribly concerned with continuing to try.

Ryou, to his credit, didn’t get annoyed or roll his eyes. He just cast a glance toward Ishtar with a quirked brow and his mouth in an unimpressed line. Then, with a soft sigh, he said, “No, Marik, he’s not been giving me trouble. If anything he’s almost been overly helpful.”

“Really?” Yugi cocked his head, and Ryou sighed again.

At least this time he seemed a little amused. “Yes. Can’t even do the dishes by myself anymore―he  _ insists _ on rinsing them and putting them up to dry.” He rolled his eyes, but it was good natured, “He helped me organize my supply cabinet the other day, too, if that says anything about his dedication to helping.”

And Marik, knowing that the supply cabinet Ryou spoke of was said to be near-overflowing with craft supplies and “ _ craft” _ supplies, thought that it did. It must have taken hours.

Marik knew he wouldn’t have been able to help without it feeling like he was pulling teeth.

Almost as an afterthought, Ryou frowned a bit and said, “He  _ also _ nearly refuses to let me go anywhere on my own. I’d probably mind a lot more if that cropped up more often and wasn’t primarily an issue at  _ night.” _

“It’s his job,” Was all Marik could think to say with a helpless shrug. “He just picked you as his new charge.”

Ryou hummed, nodding. “Can’t deny it rubs me a tad bit the wrong way at times, but I can deal… Primarily seeing as I get the feeling he’d try to protect me no matter how strong I was.”

Marik gave him a grin, and Ryou rolled his eyes, but smiled as well.

Yugi just laughed a little.

The conversation veered to what they could do about the big thing that was coming, and Marik felt pretty comfortable.

* * *

“He’s certainly different.” Marik pointed out, to Bakura, after they left one of the many meetings they had with the other four.

He was, of course, talking about Ryou.

Bakura nodded, looking nearly troubled. For all his insistence that Ryou had always been cunning, a little ruthless, and totally competent, something about the fact that Ryou was now  _ even more _ of all of those things while still remaining a sweet and rather vulnerable person seemed to throw him off.

It threw Marik off a little, too, because he knew Ryou primarily as the sweet and vulnerable guy currently walking off wrapped up in Ishtar’s cloak because he was cold. Seeing him go into evil mastermind mode was… Well. It’d given him whiplash.

“I ruined him,” Bakura finally said. “Ruined a perfectly good kid.”

Marik frowned.

But it wasn’t like he could argue that―he didn’t really have the full story or all of the details.

* * *

“Listen,” Bakura sighed, after a long,  _ long _ silence between them, “I’m… Goddammit. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. Pretty sure I have been since that duel.”

Marik blinked, not sure he’d heard him right and not entirely sure he wasn’t just dreaming. He wasn’t at all, like,  _ bothered _ by the admission. He was really glad to be hearing it, honestly, but.

Uh.

Hm.

“... Give me a second.” He said, when Bakura started to frown, “I think my brain stopped.”

“Of course it did,” Bakura scoffed, but he looked slightly relieved that Marik wasn’t being silent as an answer to his confession.

“I’m, uh,” Marik finally managed, “Fuck, ‘Kura, same. Same. Erm.”

And Bakura rolled his eyes, but the relief was palpable.

He pulled him into a hug and pressed what may have been the most annoyed kiss Marik had ever gotten into his neck. So he just hugged back. Nuzzled into his hair.

He doubted it was going to be this soft all the time, but that was okay. Just meant moments that  _ were _ would be more special.

* * *

Marik woke up to his back hitting the ground and his first thought was that he must be having a nightmare.

But then Bakura was sitting up next to him, startled and already settling into a fighting stance, and somehow he knew he had to be awake.

But if he was awake, why the  _ hell _ was he in the Shadow Realm?


End file.
